LIVING A NIGHTMARE

The Greatest Fear of Most Parents Is the Death of a Child. Charles and
Brenda Douglas Had That Fear Become Reality.

Let me tell you about the morning of June 10, 2003. It was a beautiful
morning. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and I'd already
received two telephone calls, one from my daughter and the other from
my husband.

I had gone to bed late the night before, leaving my 20-year-old son in
front of the computer, where he usually was late at night. That
morning, I stayed in bed, but had I only known, I would have been
awake before the dawn or stayed up all night ....

I went across the hall to my son's room, where the door was open and
the light was on. There I saw him lying on top of the comforter,
apparently asleep ... but ... not breathing.

My son died from abusing drugs.

He didn't want to die. I've found poems about how stupid he thought
suicide was. But he didn't stop doing drugs, and they killed him.

He was my baby. He was the youngest of our five children we helped
raise. He didn't have to die. He made some very bad choices. Was he
stupid? NO. Was he unintelligent? NO. He could tell you more about
drugs than some druggists. He mixed the wrong drugs together - we think.

He was smarter than that, but he did something stupid many years ago.
He "experimented" with drugs then and became convinced that drugs
weren't addictive to HIM. Other people had that problem, not him.

Again, was he stupid? NO. He wasn't going to get caught by drugs. He
was in control of his life.

Was he stupid for thinking that? YES. Some people think they are
invincible, that nothing is ever going to "get them." That is stupid,
no matter who thinks it.

When Jerome Douglas went to bed in the early hours of June 10, 2003,
he had every intention of getting up the next morning. He had a job
interview on Thursday, was supposed to be taking care of some business
on June 20, and even had a test to pass to become a rookie fireman on
June 20.

He didn't know he wouldn't be here for those things. He also didn't
know that he would break his family's hearts.

Parents, if you are reading this and thinking, "Oh, how sad ... but
that won't ever happen to my child..." Think again.

If you suspect your child has a drug problem, they probably
do.

How do you fight it? You confront. They deny. You cry and plead. They
deny. You take away car keys and don't give them money. They go with
friends and steal from you and others. You tell them to move out. They
do. A few days, weeks or even months later, you let them come back.
They are good for a while, you think. Then it starts over again, and
who wins? The addiction wins.

They are still your children. They aren't bad people, they just have a
problem that controls them and they don't even realize it.

How can you help them?

You pray. God listens. Sometimes He answers prayers in ways you don't
expect. Sometimes you even find yourself praying prayers that you
didn't think you'd ever pray, but when you've done all you can do, God
does what He has to do.

Am I mad at God? No. God has His reason and His timing. He knows what
is ahead. He knows so much more than we do. Turn your children over to
Him. It hurts. You want so much to help them live their lives, but you
can't do it. They have to learn from experience, but you can help them
to choose wisely if you live a life in front of them that has God first.

We are Christians. Our children have been raised in church. They were
taught Christian values. The devil wanted my children more than he
wanted children who didn't have a Christian background.

Whoever first introduced Jerome to drugs was doing just what the devil
wanted. Jerome made the choice, and his body couldn't handle the
addiction. How sad that my son didn't stay close to Jesus the way I
wanted him to.

There are days when I would love to just hear my son's voice again.
It's been silent so long, but short of video or audio tapes, I'll
never hear him again, until the day God calls my name and tells me to
come home.

If I could do things differently, I would have had Jerome involved in
more school activities. I kept him busy until he became old enough to
choose. I would have locked him in his room when he became 16 if I had
known this, I would have stayed awake more nights talking with God. I
would have ....

I am afraid I would have done all of the things I did the same way,
because I thought I was doing my best.

My best wasn't good enough.

Our children are born with wings with which to fly. We nourish them
the best we can, and then when they fall from the nest, we still love
and care for them. If we aren't careful, we smother them. If we aren't
careful, we let them starve.

There are no easy answers when it comes to raising children to become
responsible adults.

One thing I do know is that if you don't have God, you don't have
anything.

I will close this letter by speaking to the mother of the man who sold
my son methadone the day before he died:

Ma'am, did you know Jerome was an artist? Did you know that he loved
little children and just about any kind of dog? Did you know that your
son sold him the methadone? Did you care? Did you know that Jerome
wanted to become a fireman? Did you know that I had to try to explain
his death to his 4-year-old nephew and later to his 2-year-old niece
who wants to know, "Where's Jerome?"

Do you know that his oldest sister had to try to explain to a 10- and
a 5-year-old about their uncle? Do you know that his sister cries
herself to sleep at night sometimes because she misses him so badly?
Do you know that his brother sometimes cries because Jerome isn't here
anymore to watch his son grow up? Do you know that Jerome's daddy
misses him so terribly that he's losing weight and not sleeping? Do
you know that I sleep with the last shirt that Jerome ever wore, while
he was alive, in my arms at night? Do you care? If you do, you'll do
something about it.

I could wish for your son to die. I could even pray for that to
happen. I won't do either. Your son might someday become a decent
human being if you will stop lying for him and hiding what he does.
Who knows? He could become someone that even you could be proud of ...
but not if you and your family don't get your lives together. I am
praying for that to happen. You live too close to Albertville schools
for me not to pray for you.

I don't want your pity or anyone else's. I want you to wake up and
realize what is happening.

Sand Mountain has been renamed "Meth Mountain." Some law enforcement
agencies are doing their best to do something to stop our problem. It
is not just meth, it's all kinds of drugs. Maybe it should be called,
"Drug Mountain."

This isn't someone else's problem. IT IS OUR PROBLEM. Get on your
knees and pray. Pray that this drug problem will be stopped. We are
losing too many people, way too many.

William Jerome Douglas wasn't the first to die from abusing drugs. He
won't be the last. Wake up, people of Marshall and surrounding
counties. Keep your eyes and ears open and call to report things you
suspect. Watch your children.

Get close to God and He will give you the strength you need to be
strong in dealing with them. You people without children, you can save
someone else some heartache if you will watch and pray.

It sounds as though I blame someone else with Jerome's death. No. The
only person I blame is myself. It's hard to be human. I didn't do all
I could, and anything you say about me that is critical, I've already
said to myself over and over.

I failed my son. In failing my son, I failed my God.

I have to live with that.

God Bless you all.